Rimuru Raphael Mga Nobela at Kwento

Darian's voice rang out, bright and insistent, slicing through the warmth of the room. Everyone’s heads turned toward me. Raphael’s eyes found Aurora, and in that moment, a slow smile spread across his face. His gaze lingered on her, tracing her curves, memorizing her presence. Raphael was a goner for Aurora. Completely, utterly hers. This man worships the ground she walks on, and I felt a surge of happiness for them. Because I finally understood what it meant when they say a woman can unravel a version of a man you thought was hidden.

Looks: 5’7, White, brown round eyes, wrinkles, brown short hair always on a ponytail, slim. Family: Raphael Lockwood (boss, like a son) / Robert Smith (husband) / Isbella (Tammy) Smith (daughter) Friends: N/A Romeo Karkov (62) Job: Leader of the Russian mafia Raphael’s biggest enemy Personality: despicable, unfaithful, rude, dangerous, womaniser, disrespectful Looks: 5’7, White greasy hair, Fat, wrinkles, with uneven teeth. Scar on the right side of his face, green eyes.

Raphael coughed lightly to bring back the two souls who seemed to be lost in each other’s eyes. “I have to go out for a while.” Raphael stood up with a teasing smile once he got their attention “No need to wait for me for lunch.” Raphael lifted his feet and walked away without looking back, a smile dancing on his lips. He wanted to give them space while Emile dropped the bomb.

"So I'll take what's hers." I called Raphael into the war room. My inner circle gathered. Seven of the most dangerous creatures to ever walk the earth. Raphael—my oldest general. A strategist. A survivor. Selene—an assassin who moved like death itself. Dmitri—Russian. Built like a tank. Yuki—Japanese. Ancient. Precise. Marcus—my right hand. Isabelle—French. Beautiful. Deadly. And Konstantin—the oldest. Nearly two thousand years. I slid the photograph across the table. Kai staring up at them.

I followed it like a compass I wasn’t supposed to have. Raphael stood in the middle of a living room that looked like it had been designed by someone who hated clutter and loved power. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city like it was his personal snow globe. He wore a charcoal button-down with the sleeves rolled once, forearms bare, a thin scar running along the left one like a signature. His hair was still mostly black, but silver had started winning battles at the temples. He looked exactly like the man my mother had warned me about and nothing like the uncle who used to slip me twenty-dollar bills at family barbecues when I was twelve.

He looked at her with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Can I help you?” he asked. Emma hesitated before holding up the journal. “My name is Emma Williams. This belonged to my mother, Mrs. Williams. I think you knew her.” Raphael’s expression softened, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Mrs. Williams … Yes, I knew her. Come in.” Inside, Raphael led them to a studio filled with sketches, and sculptures. The room was alive with color and creativity.He gestured for them to sit before taking the journal from Emma’s hands.

Raphael said with watery eyes. Mishael and his father had caused the deaths of a lot of people. Hence, they were tagged one of the most wanted criminals. For bringing him to justice, Raphael had gone from just a common detective to a director. The unfamiliar woman joined them and Raphael went ahead to introduce her to Queenie. "Queenie, this was my superior, Miriam Salvatore."

Raphael puts me down, pulling me into a tighter hug as he whispers, “I have missed you…” He then pulls back and smirks, “You been keeping up your training?” I lower my head, and then a flash of memory of standing in a kitchen and putting him in his place, as he didn’t believe I could protect myself or Zachariah. I then smile as I step back, keeping my hands on his arms as I then quickly step forward, hooking my leg behind his, making him fall backward. He grabs my arms and takes me with him, but I throw myself forward into a roll, coming back up on my feet, and facing him, laughing. Raphael was already back on his feet and laughs as he relaxes his stance. He then bows as he says,

The way he looked, the way he carried himself, so simple, yet one could tell he was a billionaire. He had long hair, the same length as Ian’s, only his was blonde. That’s when Fatima noticed the shape of his nose, straight and pointy, just like Ian’s. It was like looking at Ian’s twin brother. “My name is Raphael. But you can call me Raph. Nice to finally meet you,” he introduced himself, taking Fatima’s hand to his lips, which she hadn’t even realized she had given him, as she was too shocked just looking at him.

“Raphael makes them better.” His face suddenly lost every bit of amusement as he looked at me coldly. “Who the fuck is Raphael?” He growled, his eyes darkening. I arched a brow at his sudden change of mood. “No one you should know about.” I replied stubbornly. I knew I could have just responded with the truth, but I enjoyed pulling his legs. And that murderous expression on his face was so satisfying. “Aurora,” He said through gritted teeth. “Fine. He's Maximus' mate. They took me in two years ago when I had nowhere else to go and we've been living since then.” I said matter of factly.